Turbulence
by gold.paperclips
Summary: [Rikkai][OCs included] Sanada saves a girl. He lands himself into more trouble than he had hoped for, for this girl is from a gang. [Chapter 3] Kirihara drags Sanada down with him when he finds a chance for revenge.
1. Meeting

Disclaimer: PoT does not belong to me.

This is set in an older timeline, where the third years are eighteen.

Warning: OC-centric

Beta: **Eternal.Angel**

Enjoy.

* * *

_Security these day__s…_ Sanada thought as he walked along the river canal. At times when the government couldn't control the level of noise pollution, yakuza (1) members could hush them with a single stare. Where the government faced difficulty in getting people to cooperate, yakuza members could accomplish it within days. Perhaps it was because they were allowed to use any means to do so, by hook or by crook. Sometimes, yakuza organizations were even more efficient in bringing aid to earthquake-stricken victims than the government itself. They were growing in power. Still, Sanada could not bring himself to allow such gangsters to taint his world. 

_They are uncouth_, Sanada huffed. He had seen too many of them, extorting money and bullying the weak. At least members of the police would never be seen doing such underhand acts. Luckily for him, he had a glare so deadly that any thoughts to provoke him vanished almost instantly. Sanada had a particular hatred towards the Red Phoenix organization. Some ignorant boy from Red Phoenix had his eyes set on Yukimura a few days ago. Yukimura would have handed over his money if not for Sanada rushing there in the nick of time.

_It's alright; I only have a little money._

Sanada sighed. Yukimura was always too kind for his own good.

Still, something nudged him from the back of his head. Red Phoenix members were not usually seen around Tokyo. Their headquarters was situated further up Japan. The organization that controlled Tokyo's black market was the Blue Dragon, Red Phoenix's largest competitor.

And that was all Sanada knew, or allowed himself to know. Deep inside, he feared that knowing too much might land him into somewhat closer relations with the yakuza.

"Help!" A shrill cry pierced the air.

Sanada whirled around to see a young girl running at full speed towards him. His eyes widened; the girl whisked behind him, clutching the edges of his shirt tightly.

"Help me!" She cried fearfully.

Sanada directed his gaze towards the two capped boys coming from the same direction as the girl.

"Hand the girl over," one hollered at him. "She's supposed to be our date today."

The girl shook her head vigorously. Sanada recognized them as members of Red Pheonix; the tattoo on their forearms was blatantly obvious.

_First it was extorting money, now forcing innocent girls to keep their company? Unforgivable!_

Sanada really needn't do anything more; the first glare had stopped them in their tracks. When they saw the anger burning in his eyes, the two robotically turned around and ran for their lives.

Sanada looked at the shaking girl behind him. Her face was a mix of shock and amazement.

_Bad sign._

"You got rid of them so easily…" She said in wonder, clasping her hands together in utmost admiration.

"It's nothing." Sanada fervently wished that she did not become one of his rabid fan girls. Those in school were already crazy enough; he couldn't bear to imagine what an outsider was capable of.

"Ah, I'll be late!" The girl brushed her skirt lightly and attempted to look neater than she already was. Sanada's eyes followed the invisible trail of her fingers: the white pleated skirt, the pink chiffon blouse and the flower-patterned scarf. Her eyes revealed an energetic, cheerful spirit within her.

_No wonder those__ buffoons had their eyes on her_, Sanada thought. She was pretty.

Finally pleased with her appearance, the girl straightened and lowered herself into a polite bow.

"Thank you for rescuing me back there…?"

"Sanada."

"Sanada-san (2)," She tucked her fringe behind her right ear, revealing turquoise eyes. "I cannot thank you enough!"

"You should go; aren't you running late?" Sanada replied monotonously.

"Oh, right!" She waved a hand, flustered.

Sanada had turned around and continued on his way home when he heard her voice call him once again.

"Sanada-san? You should be more careful, you know!" She hollered at him from a distance. There was something strange about her smile; her words were even more intriguing, but Sanada couldn't quite catch it. Sanada pushed it away, thinking that it was all his imagination. Hurrying home was his current top priority.

He needed to calm that racing heart in his chest.

* * *

Needless to say, by the time he had stepped into the house, the blush had receded. Still, he felt uneasy. _A walk in the garden might help_, Sanada mused. 

The garden was one of the most relaxing places in the compound. When he lied down on the grass, he shut his eyes and listened to the faint coordinated shouts of the kendo students, like a soothing rhythm.

_You should be more careful, you know?_

Sanada frowned. This girl not only disrupted his daily route, she also invaded his time of tranquility! Sanada pulled his cap over his eyes and rolled to the side, shutting out her voice from his head. Sanada frowned again. His pants felt unusually comfortable today. There was no bulge that protested against him as he leaned on one side.

Sanada sat up. He felt his pants pocket.

Empty.

Sanada finally realized what he had seen in that smile.

Mockery.

Sanada cursed under his breath.

It was only early evening, yet the neon signs were lit and loudspeakers were blaring announcements in no particular order. Hardly anyone was paying attention to them; they were all too busy going about their lives.

Within the tsunami of citizens walking the streets of Tokyo, a girl came out of the ladies and waved to her buddies. She pushed her belt lower, and tucked back her fringe.

_Turquoise eyes._

"That was evil; you picked such a difficult opponent." One of the guys hooked his arm over her neck.

"I need to have a strong prince in order to play the damsel in distress; have you ever seen the damsel rescuing the prince before?" She shoved his arm off, and draped one arm across his shoulders.

_Phoenix wings._

"You rescued Daisuke once before, does that count?" The guy chuckled, while the other flushed bright red.

"That was accidental; I could have handled it by myself!" Daisuke spluttered.

Hiroyuki moved backwards to avoid a wayward punch.

"Oh really? I heard that you tried threatening a Mr. Smiling Face, and then met up with a very scary Mr. Stone Face who knew judo. Luckily, the princess was around to create a distraction for the prince to escape in one piece." Hiroyuki teased.

The girl bent over in laughter, clutching her stomach.

"Stop laughing, Mikan! At least I didn't do something like pick pocketing!" Daisuke argued with his face still very red.

"Oh? Why try threatening when it's so dangerous? Remember, you nearly broke an arm because of Mr. Stone Face. He was horrifyingly angry…" Mikan countered in mock seriousness.

"Yeah, his face can rival Mr. I-Am-Pissed this afternoon! You could practically feel the heat of his radiating anger!" Hiroyuki cut in amusedly.

"Do you know? He's only eighteen."

Both guys dropped their jaws. Snapping out of his shock, Hiroyuki exclaimed, "He looks like some teacher!"

Mikan hit him on the head. "Can't you see the uniform? And, his ID says so."

Mikan twirled the card between her fingers.

"He's a good one. Must be from one of those rich families." Mikan overturned the leather wallet, and shook it.

"Nothing. There it goes!"

Mikan let the wallet slip from her fingers, straight into the rubbish bin.

"Alright! We can go party now!" Mikan shot an arm into the air, when she felt someone tapping her shoulder.

"Pick pocketing, have you?" A low feminine voice sounded next to her ear.

Mikan freezed. She turned very slowly, and grinned sheepishly.

"It was only for fun…" Mikan began.

"For fun?! What fun is there? Have you got no pride, no sense of shame? To pickpocket! We need not stoop so low; we are different from those petty thieves!"

"Yes…" _Oh great_, Mikan groaned. _Of all the people I could bump into, I had to bump into __Toshi_

"I'll make a move first; she's gonna take a while." Hiroyuki whispered in her ear, before moving off with Daisuke. Daisuke stuck his tongue out at her, and mouthed 'Ha Ha'.

Mikan wanted to stick out her tongue back at him, but was stopped mid-way by Toshi's thundering.

"Are you paying attention!?" Toshi hardly asked questions that sounded like questions.

"Yes…"

"And so, as punishment, you will work in the café for a week."

Mikan's eyes widened, and she tugged Toshi's sleeve.

"Come on, don't be so hard on me!" Mikan begged.

"Are you negotiating?!" Toshi flared.

"No. I'll do it." Mikan conceded meekly. _I don't want to fight __Monster Yamada!_

"Why will you ever learn…" Toshi sighed, muttering.

_It's going to be another boring week…_

* * *

Sanada scowled as he went through the application papers. 

He needed a new ID. Not only that, he was grounded for being careless and losing money.

_She had__ better not let me see her again, _Sanada uttered silently.

fin.

Notes:

1. Yakuza organizations are criminal organizations in Japan. I have taken certain liberties to tweak information a (large) bit, so it is not all factual.

2. san – honorific to respect someone older than you

3. Kobayashi Mikan and Yamada Toshi are leaders of the youth branch in the yakuza organization, Red Phoenix. Kobayashi Mikan will be the main focus.

4. Kuro Hiroyuki and Abe Daisuke are minor characters.

5. All of the OCs introduced in this chapter are nineteen.

6. Mr. Smiling Face and Mr. Stone Face are PoT characters.

Reviews would be helpful.


	2. Clash

Disclaimer: PoT does not belong to me.

This is set in an older timeline, where the third years are eighteen.

Warning: OC-centric

Beta: **Eternal.Angel**

Thank you to all who reviewed!

Enjoy.

* * *

_You__ shouldn't have drunk so much._

The thought flickered in her mind, seconds before she fell forward. She gritted her teeth, frowning at the voice that sounded in her mind. Something surged upwards from within her as her stomach rejected all that foul liquid that she poured in just ten minutes ago.

_I'm not drunk._

Yamada valiantly tried getting up, but only managed to get on her feet after several tries. Even with her grim determination, she could not take a step forward without leaning on the wall for support.

_See? I'm fine._

Her vision was blurry. She rubbed her eyes; the lights around her still had blurred edges and the tiles on the wall were morphing into several different shapes at once.

_Floating se__a__weed?_

Yamada peered at the approaching figure.

_Ugh, too bright. Yellow? __Gay._

* * *

Kirihara eyed the girl from a distance. He was startled by loud belching sounds coming from the tunnel and nearly freaked out. But still, it was his only way home since it was raining, and Kirihara didn't feel like braving the thunderstorm just to avoid a drunk. 

_Besides, what can a drunken girl do to me? _

With that, he bolstered his courage and strode across the tunnel. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, and found her staring distractedly at him. He shivered. Her head lolled to one side, and her next action shocked him senseless.

* * *

Yamada giggled. A shrill, bubbly string of notes came out, like someone had just run a hand across the last few keys of the piano. 

Yamada squinted at the yellow (probably, gay) man in front of her.

"Whadda starin' at?" She spat, all intimidation lost with slurred speech. Her hand slipped off the wall as she advanced towards him.

* * *

Kirihara moved backwards, holding his hands out in front of him as protection. 

_Whoa…_ Kirihara backed away slowly, as if he was faced with a frenzied horse that wanted his life (though he would rather have this than a perverted dragonfly any day). He scrunched up his nose in disgust, the acrid smell of alcohol infiltrating his nostrils. Not to mention the bitter smell of vomit.

The green-haired woman made a forward lunge; Kirihara barely managed to escape. Kirihara looked at her eyes; those glazed depths seemed to have an added emotion.

Anger.

Kirihara panicked, lifting his butt off the floor as a fist swung towards him. He was slightly thankful that she was drunk; those fists looked like they could hurt, especially since the wall cracked when her fist connected with it.

_Now what did I do now?! _

* * *

_He's gay. __Definitely._

Yamada peered at the 'floating seaweed', before taking a closer look at him.

"Whadda starin' at?"

Yamada saw (or thought she saw, her vision was haywire anyway) the amusement twinkling in his eyes. Yamada frowned.

_No one laughs at me!_

The amusement quickly changed into fear. Yamada watched with slight satisfaction as the boy fell to the floor, and scrambled back on his feet as he avoided swing after swing.

_Now, for an uppercut!_

A dull sound resounded in the tunnel as Yamada's fist connected with Kirihara's jaw.

_Aha!_

* * *

It was unmistakable; she wore a smirk on her face. 

Kirihara tasted blood in his mouth. His vision clouded as wrath consumed him. Deep inside, he had been waiting for this. Real contact was way better than tennis balls.

"I was being nice, lady."

He rubbed the blood off the side of his mouth.

She fell backward, her right leg aiming for his head.

Kirihara ducked, his left hand shooting outwards to grab the leg. He twisted. Hard.

* * *

Pain shot through her leg; Yamada winced. Her arms flailing wildly, she managed to get him to let go. 

_Tough guy, huh?_

Yamada tried to stand up, but fell on one knee as her right ankle failed her. Her mind was clouding again.

"I'm not done with you yet," she heard him say.

Looking up, Yamada had a momentary vision of a demon.

_Red eyes._

* * *

Mikan huffed exasperatedly. The rain was still pouring, and Mikan was soaking wet. 

"She _always_ drinks too much, too full of herself."

Strolling down the steps leading to the underground pass, Mikan saw a familiar shadow.

I knew you would be there.

The pose wasn't familiar, though.

Instead of a scrunched-up, ball-like shadow, the shadow was elongated. Mikan saw another shadow next to the first. This one had an arm outstretched, and its hair was not anything like Yamada's.

Mikan rushed down the steps; there was no time to waste.

The pool of blood beneath the shadows was not comforting at all.

_Damn!__ She's no fighter when drunk._

* * *

"Hey you!" Kirihara heard a voice shout. 

_Not another irritating woman again,__ and__ just when I was having fun here._

"Let go of her – whoa!" She slipped on the puddle in front, landing hard on the concrete floor. Kirihara guffawed.

"I haven't finished with her yet."

She dusted herself, and Kirihara stopped laughing. He could sense the change in the atmosphere. She was different from the one he had just dealt with. Her anger seemed to fill the entire tunnel, cackling like sparks of electricity. She held herself high, and Kirihara knew that he had felt that before.

_Like royalty._

Before Kirihara could come back to his senses, her foot was already on his collarbone (1). He stared incredulously at her.

_Nice legs._

Kirihara mentally slapped himself. His knees buckled; excruciating pain shot through him as he gasped for air.

_I can't breathe! _

* * *

Mikan caught hold of Yamada when Kirihara let go. Giving a quick examination, Mikan found that her life was in no particular danger. 

"You shouldn't have tried messing with us," Mikan told him venomously. Mikan stared down at him, smirking at his desperate expression, his futile attempt for air.

* * *

_I'm not done yet!_

"Now, to get this girl to a doctor." he heard her say as she hoisted the injured girl on her back.

Kirihara's eyes were starting to close. He tried to speak, but breathing was already very painful. His vision swirled, and then turned into an endless black void.

Kirihara didn't feel her foot kicking his head.

* * *

_Good riddance._

Mikan carried the girl roughly on her back, walking up the stairs.

Having calmed down, a sudden thought made Mikan grin gleefully. Yamada had been careless.

_Punishment time!_

Mikan cackled. She had waited a long time (it was only three days after she completed her punishment) for payback.

The girl on her back stirred.

"You awake?"

Her head lolled to the side, and she vomited. Again. This time, the smelly liquid was all over Mikan's green shirt. Mikan screamed inwardly.

_This was brand new too!_

She stared vehemently at the unconscious girl.

_Damn you._

* * *

Murmurs. 

Kirihara twitched his eyebrows.

"His eyebrows are moving," A familiar voice drifted into his ears. "Perhaps it would be a good time to use them now."

Kirihara shot up as pain pricked him from his sides. He stared wide-eyed at Marui, who was snickering and waggling two long fingers at him.

"Sleepyhead's finally awake!"

"Are you feeling alright?" Jackal asked concernedly.

"Yeah, we have one in hospital already; there's no need for another one." Niou piped up sarcastically.

"It's not like I wanted to be here!" Kirihara retorted, coughing. His chest still hurt.

"Do you know who hurt you?" Yagyuu asked politely.

Silence.

"I don't know." Kirihara replied grudgingly.

_There's no way I'm __gonna__ tell them I was beaten by a woman!_

Sanada eyed him for a while, then turned away, as if satisfied with his answer.

"Good. You should not go find them, in any case."

"But!" Kirihara felt the pain again.

"Look at you, you can hardly talk properly! Whoever you met out there was out to end your life!"

"Indeed, the old lady who found you said that you were blue when she found you. And, the blow to your chest could have killed you by depriving you of oxygen." Yanagi said matter-of-factly.

"Whoever you met out there, he's not one you can handle." Niou piped up once more.

Kirihara gripped the sheets. They were right.

_You shouldn't have tried messing with us._

Kirihara gritted his teeth, forcing himself to take shallow breaths as the pain on his chest attacked him relentlessly.

"Get some rest; we'll be leaving now," Sanada announced. "Your parents will be here shortly."

After they all bid their goodbyes, Kirihara laid back down on the hard bed, hands crossed behind his head. He was not leaving this matter alone. He still remembered the glorious red pheonix on his assailant's neck.

_I'll get my revenge._

fin.

Notes:

1. Mikan hit his throat, so Kirihara's breathing mechanism went haywire.

2. Kirihara is not gay in this (I think).

3. Mikan and Sanada will meet in the next chapter.

Reviews would be helpful.


	3. Anxiety

Disclaimer: PoT does not belong to me.

This is set in an older timeline, where the third years are eighteen.

Warning: OC-centric

Beta: **Eternal.Angel**

Thank you to all who reviewed!

I'm really sorry about the long delay. (

Enjoy.

* * *

Kirihara lay grumpily on the hospital bed. Under observation, the doctor had said. Denied the freedom of being able to toss and turn because of the pain he felt, he settled for formulating plans on how to find his attacker. His lips curled in satisfaction as he thought of the fear creeping onto her face. He was determined to find this girl and take his revenge.

_If I manage to survive this boredom_, he thought lamely to himself.

Fortunately, his parents and seniors came to see him often, keeping both boredom and thoughts of revenge at bay. But when they had left and the door slid shut, Kirihara's imagination was free to run on a rampage. He thought of the girl that he had (supposedly) left on the brink of death, her brown eyes half-lidded and her hair half-covering her face as her head lolled to one side. Kirihara licked his lips, quickly frowning as the other girl entered his memories. He prided himself on his speed and was both enraged and embarrassed that she was faster than he was.

_And __it's__ their entire__ fault that I'm__stuck here_

That was enough for Kirihara to put both girls on his never-ending blacklist.

* * *

Kirihara's eyes darted around suspiciously. He had finally gotten rid of Jackal who was following behind him. Ever since he had gotten out of hospital, he had this nagging feeling that his seniors were up to something. Sanada had made him swear that he wouldn't go finding them (under Yukimura's smiling glare), and his seniors had an unspoken task of following him around until he forgot about the whole issue. Kirihara rubbed his chest; the pain was gone, but there was still a large bruise which was slightly visible over the collar of his tennis shirt.

_But my chest still hurts, and seeing you guys be__ing __so protective__ will__ just keep that matter in my head!_

Niou (or Yagyuu) would pleasantly appeared at his house every morning, saying that he would escort him to school, just in case anyone wanted to assault him (which definitely wasn't the case). The second he had stepped out the clubhouse, Jackal (or Marui) would mysteriously drop from the ceiling to materialize right in front of him, scaring poor Kirihara out of his wits.

Finally satisfied that Jackal wasn't going to appear in front of him by shooting through a makeshift hole in the ground in front of him, he carefully stepped into the train. Scanning the train for anyone familiar (which was quite difficult since it was so packed), he made his way to one of the panels near the door and leaned against it. For a second he thought he had spotted a black cap that looked awfully familiar, but dismissed the notion after a new wave of commuters pushed its way into the train.

"Oops, I'm so sorry." A short girl apologized profusely after bumping into him. With a wave of his hand as a response, he turned away from the girl and thought quietly to himself that the girls he had met in the tunnel that night would definitely not be like this polite one. Silently visualizing how he would torment his tormentor if he ever met her, he was jolted of out his thoughts by loud, thumping techno music which seemed to fill the entire carriage. Or so it seemed, for that thunderous music came from the cell phone of the clumsy girl who had bumped into him earlier, and she was right next to him.

She fumbled, searching her bag for the metallic object which constantly eluded her fingers. Eventually pulling it out from her bag, she found that her phone had stopped ringing. Her face looked desperate and anxious, like one who was about to get a major scolding. Her slim fingers deftly pressed the number pad and she gingerly placed the phone near her ear, though not touching. Kirihara knew that the other party had picked up; she was hollering through the receiver. The girl winced in fear.

"I'm so sorry, Yamada-san," The girl bowed slightly out of habit. "I was trying to find my phone."

The name sounded oddly familiar, Kirihara mused.

"The first door you walk to when you come off the escalator, Yamada-san," The girl smiled widely. "I'm good at remembering these."

Kirihara was surprised; she was so meticulous. He shut his eyes and rested his head on the panel behind him, waiting for his stop to arrive. When he heard the electronic announcement that they were reaching yet another stop, he opened his eyes and received the greatest shock of his life.

_Green highlights._

The train jerked slightly.

_Brown eyes._

The doors opened, and he felt someone push against him.

"Yamada-san!"

He gaped; this sweet girl actually knew that drunk in the tunnel! The momentary shock was quickly replaced by satisfaction.

_What a lucky day._

Yamada looked indifferent; she turned immediately upon seeing her comrade, already on her way to her destination. Her comrade quickly ran up to her and tried to keep up with her pace.

"Hey!" Kirihara shouted, and they both halted. She stared coldly at him before asking, "You know him?"

"I just bumped into him just now…" She replied meekly.

Yamada contemplated for a while, and finally reaching a conclusion that Kirihara was someone who had no dealings with them, she turned back and continued on.

"We can't be late." The other girl nodded enthusiastically in reply.

Kirihara was dumbfounded; his head had been nearly ripped off by this woman (when she was drunk), and she couldn't even remember him?

_That is SO not right!_

* * *

Sanada sighed inwardly. Under such obvious and tight surveillance, Kirihara was bound to notice. Still, Sanada was not taking any chances. Rebellious and not yet mature enough, he would practically spring forward at any opportunity to take revenge.

_Without even knowing who he's up against. _

Sanada shook his head ever-so-slightly. Niou had told him that his assailant was most likely of the opposite gender, judging by Kirihara's determined refusal to tell them who had been there with him that night. The thought of Kirihara messing with the _yakuza_s sent chills running down his spine, but Sanada reasoned that Kirihara had enough sense in him to not trifle with them. Sanada would make sure of that, since he just spotted the familiar blob of seaweed and yellow jersey at the other end of the carriage. Unlike the more spontaneous members of his team, Sanada preferred discreet observation to blatant stalking. Marui was supposed to take over somewhere along Kirihara's route home; they were not loosening that control till he told them who exactly hit him that night.

After all, that blow that had been dealt was enough to kill.

The train had successfully zoomed past two stops before Sanada was alarmed by a shrill ringtone. He had fallen asleep, and he relaxed when he saw Kirihara still on the train. The train slowed to a stop, jerking slightly. Sanada raised an eyebrow at the departure of Kirihara; his stop had not arrived yet.

Was that a frown he saw?

_No matter __what, it'__s only safe__ to check_, Sanada thought as he stepped off the train along with several other commuters, careful not to lose sight of that tousled hair. He seemed to be staring very hard at two women a great distance ahead. Sanada deadpanned.

Kirihara was ogling at girls?

Sanada then started to make his way towards him, picking the words to lecture him as he went along. He glanced at the two girls Kirihara was following; one was pretty decent, the other was wearing a shirt that looked like it had gone through the paper shredder.

_Thank goodness it's a double-layered shirt._

Sanada opened his mouth to holler at him, only to snap it back shut after the first syllable. The girl with green highlights had turned to face Kirihara, and he spotted something very familiar.

_A __Ph__o__e__nix with wings__ outstretched._

Sanada's eyes widened; it was highly likely that Kirihara hadn't noticed. Sanada pushed his way through the new wave of commuters, his voice rendering useless as a group of dancers just whirled past him with the radio at full volume. By the time he reached where Kirihara was, he and both the girls were nowhere to be found.

_Damn._

* * *

Daidouji looked down apprehensively. She knew that someone was following them despite her lack of quick reflexes. She glanced up at Yamada, who was continuing on nonchalantly. She met with Yamada's disapproving eyes, and she shifted her gaze away immediately. What was she doing wrong? 

_Act normal, and wait for a chance to strike back. _

Street smart #27. Daidouji's face brightened slightly, as she straightened her back and tried to imitate Yamada's air. Behind them, Kirihara darted and hid, keeping a safe distance from the two. The crowd thinned as the trio passed through large streets and small alleys, until they reached a warehouse area. By then, Kirihara was sure that they were the only people around. A surge of excitement bubbled within him as he followed the two towards one of the warehouses; this was almost like an action movie.

That was, until a hand grabbed him roughly from behind and covered his mouth with the other.

Sanada brought the flailing boy to the side of the warehouses almost effortlessly; Kirihara quieted after recognizing who he was. Sanada silently berated him using his forceful gaze; Kirihara looked away, but there was no guilt within him.

Sounds of shuffling feet caused the two to turn, and they both saw the girl on the train. She was different now, for her shy exterior was now cold. She smiled. She gestured towards the entrance of the warehouse.

"You two should come in; guests don't stand outside."

Sanada stood up, pulling Kirihara along. He didn't realize that even he had been spotted so quickly. They had to leave.

Daidouji's eyes had a sad glint in them.

"You shouldn't try that."

More sounds of shuffling feet. Two men emerged from behind them. Sanada remembered them from the pick-pocketing before.

"What do we have here?" One of them spoke up. The other, however, didn't bother to wait and had launched a fist at Sanada. It was a piece of cake for Sanada to dodge, causing him to hit the air and land embarrassingly in front him. Sanada took this chance to grab Kirihara and make a run for it, but he only ended up grabbing thin air.

"You wouldn't want to leave your junior here, would you?" The same man spoke, pressing a flat gleaming blade against Kirihara's tanned neck.

_Damn._

* * *

Sanada moved into the warehouse reluctantly with Kirihara; the man behind him was poking at their backs teasingly with the knife. Their hands were tied behind their backs, just in case they decided to cause anymore mayhem. 

"Took you long enough," Yamada drawled. "Hiroyuki, stop playing with that knife."

"Oh come on, it's fake." Hiroyuki lifted the blade in the air and pushed hard at the tip. It retracted inwards. "They fell for it, though."

"So, who has decided to grace us with their presence today?" A girl next to Yamada pushed her purple hair back behind her ears before standing, revealing the same Phoenix tattoo. Sanada could recognize her from miles away: the pick pocket.

"Don't you recognize him, Mikan? He's Mr. I-Am-Pissed," Daisuke replied before cracking up. "He really is gullible."

"Oh! I remember!" Mikan pointed animatedly at Sanada. "Thanks for the money; it was great spending."

Sanada growled at her. The next instant, both were pushed to their knees on the ground.

"Good; Standing is tiring, no?" Mikan smiled cheerily.

The next minute, Mikan had her head pushed downwards, ending in an awkward bow.

"I'm sorry for you to have witnessed _such a shameful act_ and been the victim of one of our members," Yamada said monotonously.

Sanada and Kirihara sweat dropped.

_Huh?_

"Let go!" Mikan pushed away. "There's no need to apologize; he's not going to get the money back anyway." Mikan huffed. Taking a closer look at Sanada's companion, her eyes brightened with recognition.

"Ah, seaweed head's up and running already?"

The two boys stared confusedly at Mikan; Yamada strode forward and forcefully jerked Kirihara's chin upward. Raising a fist, Yamada swung at hit Kirihara squarely on the jaw.

Sanada pushed against the strong hands holding him down, anger boiling within.

"Are you trying to kill him?" He hollered. Yamada stared at him for a while before turning her back on both of them.

"It's called payback, brats." She replied nonchalantly.

The two boys glanced alternatively between Mikan, Yamada and each other. Hiroyuki shrugged, deciding that this was a matter of little concern to them. Daisuke, however, had a different opinion.

"What happened?" He asked eagerly.

"None of your business!" Yamada snapped back, earning herself a look of displeasure from Daisuke.

"Watch it; you'll scare poor Daidouji here," Mikan patted the mentioned girl on the back. Daidouji shook her head furiously.

"A bunch of low-life," Sanada muttered under his breath.

Mikan frowned slightly; her hearing was exceptional.

"What are you staring at?" She growled at Sanada. "It's not my fault you fell for it. You're just another normal teenager with rampaging hormones whose judgment gets sidelined at the sight of a pretty lady."

Sanada looked away. Though angry, he knew that making snide remarks wasn't going to get him out of this. A sudden sharp pain erupted from the top of his head; his cap was off, and Mikan was pulling his hair upwards so that he was looking straight into her brown eyes.

"Didn't your parents teach you that it was rude to not look at the person talking to you?" Mikan sneered, throwing his head back.

Yamada placed a firm hand on Mikan's shoulder, signaling finality.

"We have to go."

"Now?" Mikan wailed.

Yamada ignored that last comment and proceeded outwards. Mikan sighed resignedly.

"Just when I wanted to have more fun…" Mikan sulked and followed. She was accompanied by Hiroyuki and Daisuke, who let go the two tennis boys still tied with rope like bags of hot potatoes.

"Hey! Untie us!" Kirihara shouted desperately. But he was met with no reply as the four (or three, since Yamada wasn't talking) chatted amongst themselves.

Sanada cursed inwardly; Kirihara let out a string of incoherent curses as he kicked the ground. A shadow hovering above him caused Kirihara to look up; the same girl from the train was bending forward and leaving something on the ground.

Scissors.

"Don't try to come after us," She said softly. Then, she ran forward as Mikan called out to her to hurry. Kirihara smirked.

_There are some kind souls after all._

"Don't be too happy," Sanada grunted.

Kirihara looked at him, baffled.

"We don't exactly have the means to operate a scissors." Sanada wriggled his fingers for extra impact.

_Oh. __Right.__ Damn._

* * *

A young man stood expectantly at the arrival gates, frowning slightly. He glanced at his watch, then at his surroundings. Not like he could see much; he had at least three armed bodyguards with him. Further up front was another group of bodyguards clad in black, meant for his father, who was arriving in Tokyo anytime soon. 

Watanabe Masuo, son of Watanabe Masato and heir to Red Phoenix.

He sighed. Sometimes, he wished that he was a normal boy. He had so many responsibilities packed and ready for him since his birth. A normal boy led such a carefree life. He didn't have other organizations after his life, for one.

"Masuo!" A group of teenagers ran towards his direction, trying to look slightly more presentable while running. "We aren't late, are we?"

Masuo smiled at them. "No, Mikan; he's just arriving."

The bodyguards around them immediately snapped ram-rod straight upon seeing them, and they bowed.

"Yamada-sama! Kabayashi-sama!"

Yamada waved a lazy hand at them, while Hiroyuki, Daisuke and Daidouji looked amazedly at them.

"Wow," Hiroyuki said lamely. "I could never get used to this."

"Then maybe you could find a way to shut them up." Mikan dusted the dirt of her jeans.

"They get on our nerves." Yamada pulled a jacket over to cover her shredded, double-layered shirt.

"Hush, he's here." Masuo looked forward eagerly; that gold-topped walking stick was very easily spotted. Coming along with the walking stick was a plump man, his sleek black shoes clicking the same rhythm on the marble floor. He extended his arms out cordially, hugging Masuo, Mikan and Yamada all at the same time, as they exchanged warm greetings.

The three left behind (though forgotten by the rest) were engaged in their own conversation.

"Why is Watanabe-sama in Tokyo?" Daidouji asked, looking at the two girls with unmasked admiration.

"He's here on important business: to meet his brother. And, Mikan and Yamada have a special status in Red Phoenix. But you're new, so it's obvious that you don't know." Daisuke winked.

"They've been here longer than the two of us have." Daidouji's eyes widened slightly. Hiroyuki had joined five years ago, and that was already very long in Daidouji's view.

"You mean, they've been here since… childhood?"

Hiroyuki nodded affirmatively. "I heard Watanabe-sama took them in because he saw great potential in them. Rumor has it that Mikan tried to pick pocket him when they were orphans."

Hiroyuki laughed.

"They were always on opposite sides when the two brothers were still working together. Surprisingly, they both picked the same side after the breakup."

"What breakup?" Daidouji asked again. Daisuke paid extra attention to this one; it was not often that members spoke out the breakup. It simply happened, and no one who was there at that point of time raised the issue after that.

Hiroyuki smiled secretively, "That's another story." He looked up to bow politely at Watanabe, who broke into a smile upon seeing the three. Leaving heavy pats on their backs, he gathered them all to leave in specially-driven cars.

Masuo looked out of the window of the car he shared with Mikan and Yamada. It was time for him to perform his role.

"There's plenty of work for you youngsters, no time to waste." Masuo told them authoritatively as the airport grew smaller behind them.

"Yes sir!"

* * *

Sanada absolutely abhorred the _yakuza_s now. He had been pick-pocketed, tricked, tied up and made a total fool because of them. He rubbed his sore wrists, only escaping his mother's detection by wearing wrist bands. Kirihara sported similar wounds, as he maneuvered scissors clumsily but successfully cutting the Sanada's ropes without looking at them. 

_Don't try to come after us._

Sanada sliced the air. He didn't have that intention before, and still did not have it now.

But still.

_Don't __ever __let me see them again,_ Sanada thought furiously.

fin.

Reviews would be helpful.


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